ent to feel that you are not ashamed
of yourself. Self-respect will support a man even in such misery as
this.

The fox on this occasion, having crossed the river, had not left
its bank, but had turned from his course up the stream, so that the
leading spirits who had followed the hounds over the water came upon
a crowd of riders on the road in a space something short of a mile.
Mrs. Carbuncle, among others, was there, and had heard of Lucinda's
mishap. She said a word to Lord George in anger, and Lord George
answered her. "We were over the river before it happened, and if we
had given our eyes we couldn't have got to her. Don't you make a fool
of yourself!" The last words were spoken in a whisper, but Lizzie's
sharp ears caught them.

"I was obliged to do what I was told," said Lizzie apologetically.

"It will be all right, dear Lady Eustace. Sir Griffin is with her. I
am so glad you are going so well."

They were off again now, and the stupid fox absolutely went back
across the river. But, whether on one side or on the other, his
struggle for life was now in vain. Two years of happy, free existence
amidst the wilds of Craigattan had been allowed him. Twice previously
had he been "found," and the kindly storm or not less beneficent
brightness of the sun had enabled him to baffle his pursuers. Now
there had come one glorious day, and the common lot of mortals must
be his. A little spurt there was, back towards his own home,--just
enough to give something of selectness to the few who saw him
fall,--and then he fell. Among the few were Frank, and Lord George,
and our Lizzie. Morgan was there, of course, and one of his whips.
Of Ayrshire folk, perhaps five or six, and among them our friend
Mr. Carstairs. They had run him down close to the outbuildings of a
farm-yard, and they broke him up in the home paddock.

"What do you think of hunting?" said Frank to his cousin.

"It's divine!"

"My cousin went pretty well, I think," he said to Lord George.

"Like a celestial bird of Paradise. No one ever went better;--or I
believe so well. You've been carried rather nicely yourself."

"Indeed I have," said Frank, patting his still palpitating horse,
"and he's not to say tired now."

"You've taken it pretty well out of him, sir," said Carstairs. "There
was a little bit of hill that told when we got over the brook. I
know'd you'd find he'd jump a bit."

"I wonder whether he's to be bought?" asked Frank in his enthusiasm.